


The Mysterious Chocolates

by LoreenaLaufeyson



Series: Banana Kiwi Cake Collection [1]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Chocolate, Fluff, M/M, POV Alternating, Romance, Sanji/Zoro - Freeform, Valentine's Day, ZoSan - Freeform, sanzo - Freeform, zoro/sanji - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 12:20:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9726704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoreenaLaufeyson/pseuds/LoreenaLaufeyson
Summary: Zoro was on watch last night. Today is Valentine's Day. And there is a mysterious bundle in Sanji's fridge. Dare he hope this is what he thinks it is?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, dear readers! This is my first One Piece fic – the first I’ve finished, anyway, I’ve got some others on the way. And this is my first shônen-ai/slash-ish fic too, but, again, I’m working on some others. So I’m asking for your indulgence in that regard :p
> 
> It’s Valentine’s Day, with its holiday related fics, and it inspired me, so I wrote one myself ;) So, for all the singles out there bored to death (like me) here is a fanfic to remind you of this lovely – *cough* horrible *cough* – love-themed day. All the not-single people are welcome to spend their time here too, of course. I hope you’ll like it!
> 
>  **Series:** Banana Kiwi Cake Collection (a (future) collection of unrelated Sanji/Zoro fics)
> 
>  **Rating:** there might be some swearing going on, that’s why I didn’t just put in the ‘general, for all to read’ section, but there is nothing else going on this time, sorry folks!
> 
>  **Disclaim:** One Piece isn’t mine ;) It’s Oda-san’s. And so are the characters, even though I’m butchering them up with my vision of things. Sorry, Oda-san. But this is what we fans like :p
> 
>  **Warning:** this may be totally innocent and fluffy and stuff, but it’s still yaoi/slash (i.e. boyXboy relationships). So if you don’t like that, just **_don’t read_**. There is no need to complain about it _after_ reading it, because you have been warned. (And if you didn’t read the warning, well. That’s not my problem. If that’s your case, you, slash hater, I hope you were traumatised by the open-mindedness on gay relations of my fic.)
> 
>  **Timeframe:** this could be whenever, as long as Brook is there already. I personally have a tendency to imagine things as being somewhere after the two-year gap, but this could work whenever I guess. It’s not as if I was referring to any canon related events, really.
> 
> I won’t bother you any longer with unimportant details ;)

 

**The Mysterious Chocolates**

The pan clanged against the stove, and Zoro hissed as if to shush it. He stopped moving altogether, listening to the silence. Apart from the creaking of wood and the sloshing of waves, nothing stirred. And as he was the one supposed to be on watch tonight, everyone should be happily snoring away in their beds right now. If he managed to stay silent, they should be able to stay that way until dawn too. He glowered at the pan. This was harder than he had imagined.

Not that he had imagined much. He had realised the reason for the blond cook’s giddiness only yesterday, thanks to an off-hand remark – that sounded more like a complaint – from Nami about what day it was tomorrow. Or, well, today. It was the middle of the night after all. If Zorro hadn’t overheard their navigator going on and on about the idiocy of… today, and the bother of having to be subjected to it because of Sanji’s over-enthusiasm, he wouldn’t even have thought of this. And seeing how he was faring, maybe he shouldn’t have. This was a bad idea.

First of all, his cooking talents could be summed up as followed: if you stick a piece of meat above a fire and it’s not too red inside or too burned outside, it’s time to eat it. So making anything more complicated than a fried egg was highly ambitious. You could even call it utter foolishness. And here he was, trying to make _sweets_. He didn’t even like the things himself. How was he supposed to _make_ them?

Second, he was using Sanji’s kitchen. His sanctuary. Rare were those allowed to step close to its border, let alone cross it. And here Zoro was, invading the blond’s territory, touching his utensils, raiding his fridge – the swordsman had spent five infuriating minutes fiddling with the damned lock. If Sanji saw the state his Temple of Cuisine was in, he’d use one of his holy kitchen knives to go after Zoro, screeching like a banshee. He’d already started down this stupid path, though, so he’d better finish with something edible to show for it; there was no doubt Sanji would find out about the missing ingredients. Maybe he would be placated by the results. Zoro snorted in self-derision. Yeah, right. As if the Master of All Foods would appreciate the effort of a newbie like him.

In the back of the fridge, he had seen the two beautifully wrapped presents intended for the girls, and he had torn his gaze away scornfully. He had known Sanji would have made them. He had every year so far, there was no reason for him not to. Not that he needed to in Zoro’s opinion; he already showered Nami and Robin with offerings and unwanted affection every damned second of the day. And of course, Sanji would never throw away a chance like this one. This stupid holiday was the perfect excuse to go overboard with his praising, and chanting, and dancing, and twirling, and jumping through hoops. Zoro would have preferred he wouldn’t. Not for Valentine’s, and not ever. He smiled depreciatively. He was such an idiot.

Damn Valentine’s Day. Or Days. Or Week. Depending on where you were. Some islands only swore by chocolates, other by flowers. Some said it was the occasion for girls to show their love, others said it was the other way around, and others still insisted it was to be mutual. For some, it was the day single people declared themselves, and for others it was a celebration between couples. Sanji probably took bits and pieces from every celebration of the Day that suited his purpose: shower the girls in ‘love’. According to him, it was the best day of the year. For Zoro, it was more like the worst, but it was not like his opinion was important; what was important was the mindset of the one receiving his chocolates. And whichever Valentine’s celebration he chose to follow, chocolate did appear in it somewhere. He sure would have preferred to offer flowers and be done with it, but he couldn’t exactly go pluck some on the deck of the Sunny.

And that was why he was standing _here_ , somewhere he shouldn’t be, with a pan filled with half-melted chocolate and a wooden spoon held aloft, peering at the dark substance in the light of the cola-powered lantern. The fire of the stove was as low as he could keep it, and he intermittently took the pan off it to make sure not to burn it this time – the first batch had given off an awful smell and he had been forced to creep outside and dump it in the sea after he’d scraped the pan clean.

At least he had _some_ inkling as to what to do. Last year, Sanji had summoned all the male crew while he made _his_ chocolates, and had bombarded them with chocolate-making advice in case they wanted to show someone their love for Valentine’s. Only two had cracked under the glare he had thrown everyone that day; Usopp had fled the kitchen screaming, and Chopper had said he would try and make some with a quivering voice. Zoro had just snorted and left. Now, he regretted not having listened better at the time. He only vaguely remembered the basics, and there was no recipe book in sight to help him.

He cut off another piece of butter and added it to the mixture, stirring all the while. When the yellow sliver had completely disappeared, he took a swipe off the spoon to taste it. There might be a hint of burnt taste under all the chocolaty taste. He quickly took the pan off the fire. Damn it! What was he supposed to do now? He couldn’t throw it away again! He needed to mask the taste somehow… When he wanted to mask the taste of something, usually he would just drown it in alcohol. Maybe he could do the same now? There were chocolates with alcohol out there, right?

Gathering up his lock-picking tools and the lantern, Zoro went to the pantry-room door and went to work. A frustrating but mercifully short three minutes later, he slowly pushed the creaking door open and crept inside. There were shelves upon shelves of stuff going from floor to ceiling, and how the hell was he supposed to find anything in here? Where would Sanji put the alcohol? Glass bottles were fragile, so it would be safer to keep them at ground-level. Zoro walked around the space, eyes cast down, scrutinising the bags and packages in the gloom. Aha! There, a wine rack! The rest couldn’t be far. Zoro spotted the familiar sake bottle he usually liked to keep for himself, and picked it up. This could work, right?

Walking back, the label on a small wooden box securely squeezed between a pile of similar boxes caught his eye. ‘Almond cookies’, it read. He wasn’t surprised; Sanji did seem to be somewhat almond obsessed for some reason. Maybe he liked them a lot. And maybe they would help hide the slightly burned taste of his mixture too. He wrestled the box out of the shelf without disturbing the rest of its contents too much, and walked back to the kitchen.

Opening the sake bottle, he inspected his chocolate-butter concoction, stirring it once. It had perhaps cooled a bit too much to mix anything else to it easily, so he held the pan in the air over the flame of the stove, just to melt it again without burning it further. He then put it back on the counter, opened the sake bottle and added some to the chocolate. He tasted it before adding some more; at least it seemed to be helping the taste along quite nicely. He then stoppered the bottle again – he had been tempted to take a swig, but then his theft would have been apparent. Now there was only an inch or so of alcohol missing, and that could go unnoticed. Or so he hoped.

Zoro took a few cookies from the box, and nibbled on one to taste it. The almond flavour was strong enough but not overwhelming, so he guessed it should work all right. He crumbled them up and added them to the saucepan, stirring the now more solid mixture. He tasted a small bit of it again. Well. It did seem edible. Not too bad for a beginner, if he said so himself. Now he just needed to make it look like chocolates.

Earlier, when he had rifled through the cupboards in search of his pan, he had found a deep drawer full of moulds, and a box full of small forms, some of which he recognised as the silly shapes some of the desserts for Nami and Robin took. He had taken out six plain circles for his own project. He had also seen heart-shaped moulds, but he wouldn’t approach those with a ten-foot pole. This whole chocolate making thing was aggravating enough, no need to make his eye weep blood at the sight of the horrid symbol.

He had placed the circles on a wooden cutting-board – this was bamboo, if he wasn’t mistaken – and he now scooped his chocolate mix into them with a spoon. He had put too much in the first few and had to take some out to make them all level, and chocolate-and-cookie crumbs littered the board now, making a mess of things, but whatever. He placed the whole thing in the fridge, and started cleaning up while he waited. He hoped it wouldn’t be more than an hour before he could wrap the damned things up; he didn’t want to spend all night on this stupid thing.

Zoro slowly filled the sink with water, trying not to make much noise, and started scrubbing the pan, spoon and knife he had used. He couldn’t leave even a speck of dust out of place, or Sanji would know someone had been here. He dried the utensils and left the water for the moulds and board for later. He then found the right cupboard again after only a few trials, and gingerly deposited the pan inside its bigger siblings, and put away the cutlery where he had found it. Walking back to the pantry with the sake and cookies in tow, he put them all back, and looked around. He needed to find the supply of chocolate tablets. The two he had used – one of them wasted and thrown to the fish – had been in the small panty cupboard in the kitchen, where Sanji kept the ingredients he either often used or intended to use soon. Now the chocolate was glaringly missing, so he hoped to replenish the kitchen supply so that the decrease of stock would not be noticed right away. He made three rounds of the room before he found what he was looking for, grabbed what he needed and put it in the kitchen where he had found the original chocolate; he then locked the pantry door again with the slow, lock-picking process that Zoro did not master very well, making him grumble under his breath every time his tool slipped off one of the pins.

Zoro walked back to the fridge when he had finished, and looked at its closed door. Now, he just had one more problem. The wrapping-the-chocolates-as-a-nice-present conundrum. Sanji’s gifts for the girls looked… very nice. For a girl, nice. Full of hearts and frills. Zoro didn’t intend to make anything so garish, but he had to have something, and where the hell was he supposed to find that? Not in the kitchen, that was for sure. He soundlessly made his way outside, bare feet faintly slapping the deck – he had left his boots in the crow’s nest for that exact purpose. He had even left all three of his katana there, just to be sure that the jingling wouldn’t wake any light sleepers.

With no idea where to find what he was looking for, Zoro first went up to the library; there was a lot of paper there, obviously, what with the books and Nami’s desk. The question was if there was any that he could use, as simple white letter paper was out of the question. There had to be at least some colour, otherwise it wouldn’t be deemed ‘romantic’ enough. God, the bother! _If it annoys you so much, why are you doing it?_ said a nagging little voice in his head. _I’m starting to wonder that too_ , he answered it. But he’d already done the hardest part anyway, so it would just be stupid to give up now.

He came back out of the library empty-handed, and headed below deck instead, creeping noiselessly down the stairs. He first went inside Usopp’s workshop, stared at the clutter and sighed. This was going to be fun… He walked around the room, opening a cupboard or drawer here and there, but there was nothing he could use to wrap a present anywhere. He did find a bunch of empty labels though – Usopp liked to label every single one of his inventions. Finding a pen on the desk, he used a small clutter-free space to put his lantern down hand wrote the name in the neatest and most impersonal writing he could muster. It wouldn’t do if someone else took the present by mistake.

He didn’t sign it though; this whole affair was embarrassing enough as it was, there was no need flaunt the fact that he had stooped so low and declared his feelings using the most romantic – and commercial – day of the year as an easy escape, instead of doing it using something like a love letter or, worse, saying it directly. Out loud. No way. Never. Using chocolate might seem cowardly, but he preferred being labelled a coward than being laughed in the face by his love interest, thank you very much! Of course, he could also choose not say anything whatsoever, but he had tried that for a while already, and he was sick of it. So, hence the mystery chocolate, an unsigned love declaration that only he knew about. That way he would get the pressure off his chest somewhat, and that was well worth the effort.

Next stop was Franky’s weapon workshop, even though he did not have high hopes of finding nice-looking paper there. The state of this room wasn’t much better than the marksman’s, but he made his cursory round anyhow. He had already given up hope when he stumbled upon a small chest – literally stumbled, the damn thing had a corner sticking out from under the table – filled with squares of colourful cloth. He recognised them as the patterns of some of Franky’s shirts, and he guessed he used them as cleaning rags. Zoro picked one up and brought it to his nose. It still smelled like laundry soap and looked unblemished, so he could use this instead of the illusive paper. He rummaged through the pile and found a passable black and green cloth – never mind the little white palm trees.

He was just stepping back into the corridor when he felt an unnatural chill run down his back. He thrust the cloth and label in his haramaki and put his hand on air where his swords should be. Shit! Why was he walking around unarmed again? This was the Grand Line, there could be freakish enemies popping up anywhere! Before he could decide whether he would continue unarmed and fight bare-handed or if he should jump back inside a workshop and grab something, Brook’s soul-ghost floated through the wall.

“Yohohohohoho! Zoro-san! Are you here for a midnight stroll as well?”

“No.” Midnight stroll? It was more like three in the morning. How long had the musician been floating around like that? Had he seen him in the kitchen? He usually felt a chill when Brook passed him in this form, but concentrated as he had been on his task, he might not have noticed. “I’m just making a quick round, I’m on guard,” he added when Brook seemed to find his previous answer somewhat lacking.

“Ah, yes, very good! I just woke up and fancied a stroll, but I did not want to wake the others with the rattling of my bone, so I decided to haunt the Sunny-Go instead. I wanted to feel the cool night air on my face, but now I do not even have a skull to sense the wind with, yohohoho!”

“I see.” As Zoro just stared at him without blinking, Brook understood it – correctly – as his cue to leave.

“I’ll leave you to your guarding then. I think I’m ready to try sleep again. Have a good night Zoro-san, yohoho!”

Zoro just grunted in response and went back to the first floor. He looked around first to make sure no one else was watching him, and slipped inside the kitchen again. Taking the wrapping material out of his haramaki, he put them down on the counter and opened the fridge. When he touched the chocolates they seemed hard enough to him, so he took the wooden board out. He went to pick up one of the little cylinders, but the whole plank came with, and he almost slammed his head against something in exasperation. Of course. Of course he had forgotten to put something on there so that the damned things wouldn’t stick. Not that he knew _what_ he should have put there, but still. This was why he had never liked cooking. How were you supposed to think of details like that?

He took a knife out of the drawer, and started to painstakingly cut the chocolates loose. Once he had all six of them board-free, he found himself in front of another problem. He had tried gently pushing one of them out of its metallic mould, but it had started to crumble slightly so he had immediately stopped. How the hell was he supposed to get those out? If he tried cutting them out he was certain it would be a disaster. And he couldn’t just give them like this, right? You couldn’t eat them like this. Maybe he should just do them without the moulds, melt them again and— Wait. Melt them. That could work!

He ignited the flame on the stove again at its lowest setting, and cautiously held one above the flames, metal ring towards them, and slowly turning it so that the whole circumference heated evenly. When he felt the chocolate melt a bit under his fingers he tried to get it out of its circular frame, and with a little wiggling it came out unscathed enough. He put the chocolate back on the board and did the same with the five others, then put everything back in the fridge for a few minutes to harden them again. When he took them out, they looked acceptable. There was nothing else he could do anyway, so this would have to be sufficient.

He put the chocolates in the centre of the cloth, forming a triangle of circles piled one on the other, and folded the corners together to knot them. It wasn’t the most beautiful wrapping in the world, that was certain, but it did its purpose all the same. He put the string of the label around the cloth knot, displaying the name visibly enough. There. Now he just needed to put it somewhere so it would be found tomorrow. He looked at the fridge again. He could just leave it in there. He could even hide it behind the other gift-wrapped chocolates – that way they wouldn’t be found first thing in the morning, and he might be able to have breakfast without having to worry at least. Yes, that was a good idea. He flattened the cloth enough for it to be hidden by the hideous frills of the other presents, and closed the fridge again. He clicked the padlock back in place and washed, dried and tidied everything he had used, not leaving a single sign of his presence behind. Then he went back to the crow’s nest for a well-deserved nap; the invisible foes of the Grand Line could choose some other time to pay them a visit.

XxXxXxXxXxXx

It was around three in the afternoon, and Sanji was preparing tea for the lovely ladies. He had decided to give his chocolates now instead of earlier, because their cherry flavour would be brought out best with an Earl Grey brewed to perfection. Of course, he had not waited all day to shower Robin-chwan and Nami-swan with gifts – indeed he had started at breakfast. He had decorated their plates even more than usual, had gone out of his way to fill them with outstanding flavours, and showered their corner of the table with flower petals. To each he had given a tasteful little bouquet of roses and a ‘Happy Valentine’s Day’ card, and the rest of the crew had looked at him with either bewilderment or exasperation. During the rest of the day, he had added little touches here and there that showed it was not over yet, such as the heart-shaped omelette at lunch or the bright pink fizzy drinks with heart-shaped ice cubes he had brought them not so long ago.

Now, he stood in front of the open fridge, one hand on the gift-wrapped chocolates, when he noticed something odd. He took the packages out and eyed the cloth bundle with suspicion. What was that? He certainly hadn’t put it there, which meant someone had been in his fridge. How dare they! He didn’t just lock it for fun; this was his space, and no one was supposed to touch it! He didn’t need their grubby paws stealing from him and tainting his carefully wrapped ingredients! Frowning angrily, he snatched the thing out of there with two fingers, and held it in front of his face from one of the corners of the fabric. A piece of paper was hanging askew from it, and the letters written on it were slightly smudged from the moist. Still, the name written on it was clearly readable. ‘SANJI’. Why would his name be—

In his shock, he unceremoniously dumped the bundle on the counter and stared at it wide-eyed. Someone had made him a Valentine’s gift. Someone had dared breaking open his fridge to give him a Valentine’s gift. This was huge! This was the best day of his life! Someone had given him a Valentine’s gift for the first time of his life! All Blue Almighty! This was wonderful! He was almost too afraid to open it.

He gingerly flipped the label over, looking from some sign as to whom it came from, but there was nothing. The writing itself was unremarkable, so he could not guess who had given it just from that. Obviously, the person wanted to stay anonymous. Sanji narrowed his eyes. _He_ wanted to know who made this. For one thing, they had managed to break into his fridge, so they had to pay for that little stunt. And second, what good was such a gift if he couldn’t thank them in return?

His fingers moved to the knot, tugging on the black and green fabric. He recognised it soon enough as one of Franky’s shirts, and wondered if that meant it was from him. Sanji certainly hoped not; there were some other people he would prefer getting a Valentine’s gift from. When the cloth fell away and its contents appeared, Sanji was flabbergasted. Chocolates! Plain-looking ugly chocolates, but chocolates all the same. How? He had been in and out of the kitchen all day, how could they have… Wait a minute, they had used his kitchen! They must have, he recognised the size and form of those chocolates. And they had to have used his ingredients as well! Had they gotten into his pantry? God, was no place on this bloody ship sacred anymore? _The gall of this crew, I swear!_

They had to have done it during the night, there was no other conclusion to draw. They had gotten up during the night and forsaking their sleep – and chosen to incur his wrath – to make these chocolates just for him. And by the looks of it, they weren’t especially used to cooking either, which made their effort all the more commendable. If only he knew who it was.

Sanji picked one of the chocolates up and brought it up to his nose. The smell of sake was strong and immediately recognisable, with a hint of burnt chocolate hidden behind it. He chuckled; _indeed, my mysterious friend, chocolate making is quite the art_. The idea of hiding their mistakes behind the alcohol was quite ingenious on their part, though. He cautiously took a bite. Hmm, too much butter, definitely, but the almond was a nice touch – he loved almonds himself. He loved almonds; they knew that, didn’t they? That’s why they put it in there. They were thinking about him when they made this. Sanji plopped the rest of the huge chocolate in his mouth. It wasn’t the most delicious chocolate he had tasted, there was no doubt about that, but it was the best chocolate he had ever had nonetheless.

Who had made it, though? He started to get an inkling, but he was afraid he was deluding himself. He needed to look at the facts. They did not want him to know who they were; why? Were they afraid he would mock them? Why would he? Was this as much of a declaration of love as he thought it was? They didn’t seem very prepared; this was one of the rags Franky used throughout the ship for wood-lacking and such. Sanji had bought the packages for his gifts the last time they were ashore. They had managed to break into his fridge and pantry in the middle of the night, which showed conviction, and still did not leave a trace of their passage, because they knew he hated trespassers. They weren’t very good at chocolate-making, but still went through the effort for him. They did not seem very inclined to decorate their gift in any way – perhaps they just did not have a very pronounced romantic touch, even though they used Valentine’s Day to act. But most importantly, they had unconsciously chosen the black and green cloth, and out of all the available alcohols, a lot of them suiting the almond better, they had chosen this particular sake. The sake he had in storage exclusively for Zoro, because the Mosshead would relentlessly complain if he was given another, even if it was a better brand.

Zoro had made him chocolates. No, Zoro had suffered through making chocolates in the middle of the night for Valentine’s Day, just for Sanji. He smiled. Poor, poor Marimo. He plopped another chocolate in his mouth, and while he waited for it to melt in on his tongue, he started gathering ingredients. He would need them for his return present; a chocolate sponge cake, using lots of pure cacao, only a smidgeon of sugar, and liberal amounts of that one sake in the cream layer. The ladies’ tea could wait until he had put it in the oven.

XxXxXxXxXxXx

Zoro had been working out for a while now, windows and trapdoor open for some cool air. The sound of the hatch slamming shut had him losing his grip on his dumbbell though, and he almost slammed his head in the nearby rack. What the hell? He was certain he had secured that thing, it shouldn’t have just shut on its own like that.

Looking over at it, he only saw the serving tray when the water drop clinging to the wine glass glided down and glittered in the sunlight. What? Why was he brought drink and food at this hour? He hadn’t somehow missed dinner, had he? Coming closer, he recognised the beverage as white wine. A small spoon and fork framed a covered dish, and he slowly lifted the metallic bell, peering under it. When he recognised the shape, he uncovered it in a jerky movement and sighed. He didn’t like sweets. Sanji should know that.

Wait a minute! This was— This was chocolate cake. Sanji had brought him chocolate cake! Furthermore, Sanji had brought him a snack. Up here. He never did that! Always said that if the guys wanted a snack, they should come and ask for it in the galley. He only brought the girls stuff. And this was chocolate…

Zoro’s face heated up quite suddenly. No way. He couldn’t know that Zoro had made those chocolates. How could he know? This had to be some kind of mistake! Some kind of joke! Right, he had found out somehow, and had retaliated with a joke! He knew Zoro hated sweets after all! He was probably angry when he found out the chocolates weren’t from one of the girls. He probably thought it was a joke on Zoro’s part, or something. And this was his revenge. Still, it was chocolate for Valentine’s, even if it wasn’t for real. Zoro had the right to pretend it was real, just for a bit, right? He picked up the fork, scooped up a bite and put it in his mouth, ready for the sweetest horrible thing he had ever tasted. Instead he stared. And stared.

This wasn’t sweet. It was bitter, and full of his favourite sake, and it was the best chocolate cake that had ever touched his tongue. It was the sweetest balm his heart could have asked for. Sanji had really thought about this, about him, before baking this cake. This wasn’t a joke. This was at least a thank you. He hoped it was something more. He took the time to savour the cake, even appreciating the wine more than he usually did, and stared at the empty plate for a few minutes, then screwed his eyes closed. He should go down. He really should. He forced himself to look at the latch of the trapdoor, and pulled it open. He glided down the ladder and practically ran to the galley door.

Standing in front of it, he hesitated, hand on the handle. Before he could decide what to do, though, the door opened and Sanji stood in front of him. The blond stepped back and silently gestured him in. Zoro ogled him for a moment, frozen and speechless, but the twitch of a curly eyebrow made him move. The door closed behind him with finality, and an awkward silence invaded the space.

After a while, Sanji seemed to be sick of the lack of conversation, because he leaned against the table and blinked at him a few times before saying: “How can I help you?”

Zoro’s throat felt horribly raspy, but he still managed to croak out the word ‘cake’. Sanji’s expression immediately brightened. “How was it?”

“Um… Great. Yeah, very good.” Zoro swallowed a few times. God, did he sound stupid. That cake had been the best dessert he’d ever tasted, and the best he could do was ‘great’? Geez, he was such a moron.

Sanji’s smile stretched from ear to ear. “Great. I’m glad you liked it.”

“And the… chocolates?” Zoro blurted out before he could stop himself. He wanted to face-palm himself for that, repeatedly. How could he expect a chef of his calibre to like those pitiful chocolates? Maybe he should just glue his mouth shut sometime.

“They were delicious. Best chocolates I ever had.”

Zoro snorted derisively and looked out the window. “Yeah, right. No need to lie to me. I know they were shitty.”

“Well, sure, they weren’t of the best quality, I’ll give you that.” Zorro snorted again. “But still, they were the best I’ve ever had, because you are the one who made them.”

Zoro stared at him in disbelief, and he was pretty sure he was crimson now. Sanji could not be saying what he thought he was saying. Sanji was straight. He was a ladies’ man. Right?

“But— But what about the girls?” Zoro stammered out, and he had the unpleasant urge to flee. He did not want to hear what was coming; he did not need the shitty cook’s exaggerated devotion for Nami and Robin to be spouted at him in endless waves.

“What about them indeed?”

That was not what he had expected, and he was sure it showed on his face, because Sanji softly smiled at him. “But—  You—,” Zoro continued. “All the Valentine presents…”

“What about it? Can’t a guy show a pretty lady some devotion without it meaning what you think it means? For instance, what colour were the roses I gave them at breakfast?”

“How should I know? Why would I notice such a thing if I don’t give a shit about it?” Zoro half screamed, his face feeling hotter than before, and his heart sinking when he remembered the presence of the flowers. Flowers meant a lot on Valentine’s Day, just like chocolates did. Sanji stared at him with a knowing look, lifting his visible eyebrow, until Zoro felt the need to look away. “Pink,” he mumbled, almost too softly to hear, but Sanji’s smirk showed he had.

“And do you know what pink roses mean?”

“L… Love?” Zoro answered questioningly; he still did not manage to look Sanji in the eye, and he hated that his voice had hitched when he’d said it.

“In a way, yes.”

It felt like his heart had hit the soles of his shoes now, and he wondered if it could get any worse. Maybe it would just leave his person and plunge below decks at the next hit. It was his fault, really. He was the one who had started this whole chocolate charade.

“But,” Sanji continued, “it usually means the love, gratitude and appreciation of friendship.” Zoro’s gaze locked on Sanji’s cerulean eye, and he was sure his shock was plainly visible on his face. “Just friendship, nothing more.” Sanji smiled, and Zoro could feel the corners of his mouth starting to lift in response, and he did his best to stop them. This did not mean anything yet. It just meant he had not overtly shown any romantic love towards either Nami or Robin. “I don’t have any red roses on board, and they mean ‘I love you’, as you probably know” – there, see, he just gave them the pink ones because he didn’t have a choice, but had he had any – “but had I had any, I would be giving them all to you right now.”

The breath Zoro was taking stuck in his throat at that, and he started coughing uncontrollably, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes at the strain, and Sanji started to laugh. Shit, this was like the worst ever reaction to a love declaration. He was still wheezing, with his hands on his knees and his face the colour of a lobster, no doubt, when he felt Sanji’s hand resting on his back and stroking up and down in a calming gesture. Zoro turned his head towards him and rasped: “Fuck, why couldn’t you just come out and say you love me, instead of torturing me with your stupid roundabout ways?”

Sanji laughed again. “Riiight! Pot, kettle, black much? And that’s called romance, Marimo!”

“Well romance sucks, shitty cook!” Zoro mumbled, but he was smiling so hard his lips hurt from the stretch. Sanji’s smile was just as big when Zoro straightened and faced him. He took a deep breath, not chocking on it this time. “I love you,” he said in a whisper, and Sanji’s lips on his was the only answer he’d ever need.

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Gosh, this made me crave chocolate! And if you were wondering, Zoro’s recipe was just invented for this fic, though it is loosely based on a recipe I use (with dark chocolate, butter, plain cookies and marshmallows) but the variation in this fanfic does not exist. You’re welcome to try it out though – as long as you’re of the right age, of course ;)
> 
> _Spread the <3!_
> 
> **LL**


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